Freezing Winter
by dragontattoo75
Summary: Carlisle didn't like having time off from work. Free time meant time to think. Thinking meant trouble. So, when his boss forced him to take two weeks off, he immediately found something else to do. "It had seemed like the rainy autumn had turned to freezing winter." AH/Slash. Donated to SU4K for StandUp2Cancer.


**I submitted t****his oneshot to the fandom cause Stand Up 4 Katalina. Together we raised $12,790 that went to Stand Up 2 Cancer: www dot standup2cancer dot org  
**

**Thank you Jasper1863Hale and Karenec for pre-reading, Sue273 for betaing and Yulliah for making my wonderful banner.  
**

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** i1354 dot photobucket dot com/albums/q687/Dragontattoo75/FreezingWinter_zps027d1524 dot jpg**

**Banner by: Yulliah**

**Freezing Winter by Dragontattoo75  
Rated: NC17  
Warnings: Rated NC-17 for language and adult content. Slash.  
Beta: Sue273  
Summary: ****Carlisle didn't like having time off from work. Free time meant time to think. Thinking meant trouble. So, when his boss forced him to take two weeks off, he immediately found something else to do. "It had seemed like the rainy autumn had turned to freezing winter." AH/Slash.**  
**Dedication: I'd like to dedicate this story to my father who fought against lung cancer as I was writing this story and lost his battle twenty five days after his diagnosis. He'd smoked his whole grown up life.**

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Stepping out of the hospital, Carlisle sighed deeply.

Right at the start of the shift, his boss had told him he was denied more hours at work this week and he was to take two weeks vacation starting immediately. His boss claimed he would be burned out before the age of thirty if he continued to keep his ongoing pace for much longer. It was clear to Carlisle that his boss didn't know what the hell he was talking about.

During the last few hours of the evening, it seemed like the rainy autumn had turned to freezing winter.

Walking carefully to avoid slipping on the newly treacherous ice, and end up inside the walls as a patient himself, he pulled his beanie over his short, still wet hair and closed his thick coat tighter around himself.

It was so cold, his breathing made a fog in front of his face with every breath he took, and he hurriedly tucked his hands into his pockets in an attempt to stay warm until he got to his car.

It had been dark outside for several hours already, but the streetlights shone on the ground, showing him where not to step on the shiny and dangerous sidewalk; the result of the previous rain, before the cold had set in that afternoon.

Even though smoking was strictly prohibited right outside the hospital doors, several people sat there as usual, wrapped in blankets and coats, but still shivering and freezing their butts off to satisfy their need for nicotine. A thick fog covered them as they continued doing what caused them to be there in the first place.

Some averted their eyes hastily on seeing him approach. Just a couple of them nodded at him, mumbling "doctor" and he smiled back at them. If they chose not to listen to his advice and stop smoking before it killed them, it was their decision and there was nothing more he could do.

Crossing the street as fast as possible, yet still being careful with every step he took, he walked safely into the dark, deserted parking garage where his car was parked on the top floor.

The metal handle on the door to the stairs was too cold to touch due to the frost. Wrapping the edge of his jacket around his hand to hold onto it, he leaned back a little and used his weight to drag the heavy door open slowly. Automatically, the blinking fluorescent lights came on. He quickly took two steps at a time in his hurry up the stairs, eager to get to his car and warm it up as soon as possible. Right before he could reach the top floor, something behind him moved, startling him.

His brief glance had mistaken the rags on the floor to be garbage, but then it groaned and rustled. A second later, a young face appeared with huge, brown eyes - a sharp contrast to the whiteness of his skin. His hostile gaze blinked sleepily up at Carlisle.

"Will you turn off the fucking lights?" the pitiful creature growled at him, his harsh glare telling Carlisle to piss off.

Carlisle lifted his foot hesitantly onto the next step, then putting it slowly down.

"You're really going to sleep in here tonight?" he asked, looking back at the creature, only covered by a flimsy blanket and newspapers.

"Do I look like I have any choice, shithead?" came the angry answer, the voice surprisingly deep for such a young age. "And fuck you, man. I said turn off the goddamn lights. I was already asleep!"

Carlisle shivered at the thought of having to stay on the concrete floor during such a cold night.

"Have you at least eaten something today?" he asked, retreating his foot from the step. "I can give you some money to buy warm coffee and perhaps some food?" He patted his pockets to feel for change.

"Why the hell do you care? Are you a doctor or something, mister? Because if you are, you should get the fuck out of here. I hate doctors!"

Not letting the anger oozing from the stranger get to him, Carlisle took a step towards the person, who immediately cringed back against the wall. His big eyes darted everywhere, obviously more talk than action. Carlisle held up his hands to him.

"Hey, I come in peace," he said. "I'm not going to hurt you! Please, calm down." He used his most soothing voice. The kind he used on frightened patients at work.

He gestured to the ceiling. "I have my car up here, at the top. Why don't you come home with me tonight? Get something warm to eat, maybe take a shower?" he asked kindly.

Dark eyes glared at him, still hostile. "I don't fucking do that shit!"

Carlisle took a step closer, eager to make the boy understand his good intentions. He wanted to try to make his life a little better, but the person jumped up, ready to flee.

Carlisle sighed deeply and tried to find the magic words. "You misunderstood me. I'm not asking for anything in return. I just told you, I'm not going to hurt you."

He backed away, sitting slowly down on the stairs instead. Placing his arms on his thighs, he tried to show a relaxed and nonthreatening posture as he studied the boy more closely. It was impossible to place his age. His face looked young even behind the grime, but his eyes told another story. He seemed to be only skin and bones.

"Then what do you want?" Carlisle asked him calmly.

"Huh?"

"What can I do to help you?"

The boy looked at him with wide eyes for a second, then shook his head. "Go up to your car and go home. I just want some sleep."

Carlisle opened his mouth, but the boy spoke again before he could say anything else. "Just let me be and go home to your wife, all right?"

Carlisle sighed deeply. His ass cheeks were starting to feel cold already. He couldn't imagine having to sleep on the concrete floor all night.

"Look," he started, trying to find the right words to change the boy's mind. "As I said, I mean you no harm. I'm going home to my dark apartment where no one is waiting for me. You can come with me and I'll make us something to eat as you take a warm shower. I have a comfortable couch where you can sleep and, I promise you, I don't want anything in return."

The boy's eyes unfocused, a tiny smile playing on his chapped, dry lips. Carlisle realized the boy was visualizing his offer and it raised his hopes.

"I'm off work for a few days," Carlisle said, more eagerly now. "I can drive you anywhere you want tomorrow, or you can stay for a couple of days to build some meat on those thin muscles of yours. Come on, it must be better than staying here, right?"

Groaning at the temptation, the boy closed his eyes and stretched his stiff back muscles. The joint in his shoulder cracked as he lifted a hand to pull his fingers through his greasy hair. Opening his eyes, his determined stare fell straight upon Carlisle.

"No, you go home. I'm staying here. People always want something in return," he said and laid down again, turning his thin back to Carlisle as a final answer. "And fucking turn the lights off, will you?" he groaned.

Carlisle rose to his feet, feeling an unexpected amount of disappointment. "Very well, I was only trying to be nice," he said, and as he started walking up the last stairs, he turned around and told the boy, "The lights come on automatically. There's nothing I can do about _that._"

In his car, he sat there for a few minutes with the engine running, waiting for it to warm up. Fumbling with the radio, his fingers cold and stiff, he tried to find something soothing to calm his endless train of thoughts. He placed his hands on the steering wheel, staring out at the streetlights.

It was the boy's own choice not to go home with him. Carlisle had done his very best to persuade him. He realized he actually _admired_ the boy for finding the strength to say no to what must seem like heaven to him. He couldn't know Carlisle's reasons for offering him a warm bed, or the honesty of his words. Carlisle could have been some creep wanting to take advantage of the boy, and he was glad he wasn't so easily manipulated.

He started driving down the floors slowly so as not to bump into the narrow concrete sides and, when he was about to drive onto the road, he slowed down even more to take care with the ice outside. Slamming the brakes, he almost crashed into a person standing in his way, but his car just kept going, sliding on the ice. His heart was in his throat as he pumped the brake pedal, and the car finally came to a halt in front of a pair of huge brown eyes staring frightened at him.

"What the hell are you doing?" Carlisle yelled. The boy must have heard him, because he mouthed 'sorry' and walked to the passenger side, opened the door and leaned down.

Carlisle took a deep breath, trying to calm his galloping heart before he faced the boy.

"Uhm, sorry about that, mister," the boy said. "I was wondering if the offer still stands?" With those huge eyes staring hopefully at him, Carlisle felt his heart make an unexpected hard pump in his chest.

Quickly averting his eyes, he looked around at the street without purpose, trying to breathe with his stomach. Clearing his throat when the heart attack was averted, he finally said, "Yes, of course. I told you I wanted to help you."

"Great!" the boy said, as he jumped into the passenger seat and threw his small backpack onto the seats behind them. Carlisle drove them safely onto the road, carefully slowing down in front of the red traffic lights on their way home.

They made it to his house in silence and without any further near-accidents. Parking his car in its usual place, Carlisle walked in front of the boy, finding the keys in his pocket. Opening the door wide, he took a moment to view the boy close up as he passed him in the doorway. His clothes must have been bought for him, once fitting him perfectly in size, but they were now dirty and worn out, their original colors and style unrecognizable.

Closing the front door, Carlisle walked straight for his bedroom. He searched in his drawers for a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants narrow enough to fit the boy's thin frame, and found something curled up at the back.

The boy was standing on the same spot, not having moved an inch, clutching his backpack to his chest and glancing down the white empty walls of the corridor, when Carlisle came out in the hallway.

Carlisle stopped several feet away from him so as not to get into the boy's personal space, and threw the clean clothes to him.

"Here, I think these might fit you if you tie the strings tightly." The boy nodded, his hands slackening the grip on his backpack as he grabbed the clothes.

Carlisle pointed to the bathroom. "You can take a shower for as long as you like. There's soap and shampoo in there. Oh, and there are towels in the cabinet." He turned towards the kitchen when the boy nodded in silence. "I'll fix us something to eat," he said, leaving the boy alone and went to the kitchen to see what he could come up with for them.

He stood and stirred the pot on the stove, his thoughts springing from subject to subject as usual when he was alone and not forced to focus on his work. Finally tasting the sauce from the spoon, it felt delicious in his mouth so he must have done something right with his hands after all. His stomach growled loudly and a quiet snicker came from the direction of the door. The boy stood leaning against the frame, his hair falling wet and dark over his downcast eyes.

Carlisle smiled to himself. He found utensils in the drawer, filled their plates with hot food, and asked the boy to fix them something to drink from the fridge.

They sat down on either side of the table and the boy started shoveling food into his mouth, chewing only a couple of times before he swallowed to make room for another mouthful. With his face scrubbed, his skin was white and spotless. Carlisle noticed he had pretty features and plump lips.

The boy had stopped eating for a second and looked up at Carlisle with his huge, brown eyes. "Aren't you hungry after all?" Carlisle realized he'd been staring at the boy and he started eating then.

"What's your name?" he asked, between the mouthfuls he forced down. He couldn't keep calling him 'the boy' in his head.

The boy swallowed his food. "Riley. What's yours?"

"I'm Carlisle," he said.

"So what's the deal with your apartment anyway?" Riley wondered.

"What do you mean?" Carlisle asked and looked around. He couldn't see anything special about it.

"Never mind then, it certainly doesn't matter." Riley shrugged his shoulders, drank his water and leaned back, studying Carlisle for a moment. "You don't look too good yourself, actually," he observed.

Carlisle stopped eating and put his fork down. He didn't like the turn the evening had suddenly taken with the focus being placed on himself. Pushing his chair away from the table, he said, "Do you want me to show you the couch now? You must be tired."

Riley looked at him in surprise, but closed his mouth and didn't comment on Carlisle's abrupt reaction. He just got up and followed him silently into the living room, where Carlisle gave him a pillow and a blanket.

"Will you be all right here?" Carlisle asked, looking down at the couch.

Riley nodded. "Yeah, thanks. This will be great." He stood and looked around the room for a second, before Carlisle cleared his throat.

"Well, I'm going to bed. I'll see you in the morning?" he asked.

"Yeah," Riley nodded.

Carlisle went into his bedroom and closed the door behind him.

The next day, Carlisle woke up feeling tired, after another of his usual restless nights. Dressing himself, he wondered if the boy would still be there. When he walked into the living room, Riley was lying on the couch, deeply asleep with his arms above his head.

Carlisle made them breakfast, thinking about what he could do to help Riley further, but he wasn't sure what to do for him. He needed to talk to him, get to know more about what his situation was like first. Then Riley was in the doorway again, leaning against the frame in a relaxed pose, with his arms crossed in front of his chest and a smile at the corner of his mouth, as he watched Carlisle cooking.

"Good morning. There's coffee," Carlisle told him, smiling, too, and gesturing to the warm pot.

"Great!" Riley said, taking a cup and sitting down at the table, continuing to study Carlisle as he set a plate in front of him. They ate in silence for a while, their chewing the only sound in the room.

Carlisle drank his coffee and told the boy again, "You're welcome to stay here for a few days, if you want."

Riley stopped shoveling food into his mouth and looked at him. "That's very generous of you," he said, putting his fork down on his empty plate. He placed his hands in his lap, and stared down at them silently.

"You can think about it," Carlisle said and got up to do their dishes. Riley followed him and grabbed a towel to dry.

"I was thinking we could go shopping for some clothes for you," Carlisle suggested.

Riley stared at him. "I don't have any money," he mumbled.

"But I have," Carlisle said, shrugging as they finished up the chore.

Carlisle bought the boy a thick coat and shoes as well as a warm sweater and new jeans. Finding a restaurant at lunchtime, they ate quietly, until Riley remarked, "You don't speak much do you? I thought you would question me every chance you got. Not that I'm that interesting," he added as an afterthought.

"I _am_ wondering about you," Carlisle admitted. "I'm wondering what I can do to help you get off the streets. I just didn't want to scare you away."

"Why did you think I'd get scared away? This is a dream come true for someone like me," Riley exclaimed, gesturing around the restaurant.

"This is your dream?" Carlisle asked in surprise.

Riley stared at him silently, his eyes a little vulnerable for a second, then he started plucking at the table cloth. "I don't have any dreams." He swallowed hard, looking out of the window, then back at Carlisle with a smile plastered on his face. "What's yours?"

Carlisle stared at him for a long time, but Riley didn't avert his eyes. Carlisle shook his head and pushed his glasses up his nose. "Fine, I'll tell you something."

Riley stopped fiddling with the cloth, giving Carlisle all of his attention.

"The day I told my girlfriend I'm gay, was the day she found out she was pregnant with my baby."

Carlisle said the words in a rush, getting them out fast like his mouth didn't like forming them, and then looked to the street outside, his normally fair cheeks flushing red. Riley didn't say anything, he only waited until Carlisle continued. "I want to know if I have a child, and if I do, I want to be a part of my child's life. That is my dream."

Carlisle could feel Riley's eyes burning holes in his head and it took all of his energy to pull his eyes away from the window and over to him. Riley opened and closed his mouth several times, but then shook his head.

"I don't get it."

Carlisle sighed, feeling empty. The waiter came with their bill which he paid. They pulled on their coats and walked to his car. Riley stood unsure with his hand on the handle. "Uhm, do you still want me to come back with you?" he asked.

"Yes, of course," Carlisle said. "Nothing's changed."

.

Back in his apartment, Carlisle started pacing the corridor. Up and down he went, rubbing his hands together, the fingers on his right hand stroking the knuckles on his left repeatedly. Doing this for a while, he eventually ended up in the living room. He looked up and saw Riley sitting on his couch staring at him with his huge eyes.

Startled, like he had forgotten he had company, Carlisle said the first thing which came into his mind, "I'll make us some tea," and went to the kitchen.

With two cups in his hand, he turned to sit down, finding Riley already sitting at the table studying him.

"Thanks," Riley said, taking the tea offered to him and warming his hands around the cup.

Carlisle took tiny sips of the liquid, staring out of the window.

Softly, Riley asked him, "Have you ever tried to find out if you actually have a kid?" He glanced up at Carlisle, taking a small sip from his cup, unsure if he was willing to talk more about it.

Carlisle looked down at the cup in his hands. "Yeah, I have tried—it's complicated."

"Yeah, I already got that," Riley answered. Minutes passed, with only the sound of the clock ticking over the stove to break the silence. "It's obviously affected you a lot," Riley said quietly when Carlisle didn't elaborate.

"Yeah, well, I don't like thinking about it," Carlisle said. "I do all I can to avoid it." He stared down at the table, then shook his head as if to force the thoughts away, changing the focus to Riley instead. "You said you don't have any dreams. I don't believe you."

Riley looked at him, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "I don't like thinking about it," he said, mimicking Carlisle's words.

Carlisle smiled at him and kicked his foot under the table. "Idiot!"

"You're the idiot!" Riley booted him back, laughing.

"Am not!" Carlisle snickered.

"Oh, yes, you are. What sane person invites a homeless guy to his house? That's not something people do."

"You don't seem like the typical homeless person to me," Carlisle said, seriously again.

"You're not answering my question," Riley groaned.

"Yeah, well, what do you want me to say? I don't feel like an insane person. If I had been, do you think I'd be allowed to continue working as a doctor?"

Riley studied Carlisle's face for a second. "No, I don't think you're insane. I think you're depressed, or something."

Carlisle fiddled with his cup. "Maybe a little. I get up every morning, I eat, shower and do a good enough job at my work, so it's not too bad. It's just that this is a hard situation to deal with. The uncertainty and, I guess, anger."

Riley studied him. "You've given up," he stated.

Carlisle suddenly pushed the chair away from the table. Placing his empty cup in the sink, he hunched his shoulders, and let his head hang down. "No, I haven't given up. I'm just giving her some time."

"Yeah, you tell yourself that. It can't be that difficult to find out, surely?"

Carlisle turned around abruptly, his face furious. "It's her and her whole family, all right?" he shouted. "They're a bunch of homophobes—all of them!" The air seemed to go out of him, and he slumped down in his chair again. "I know what I did wasn't right, being with her and trying to have a relationship with a woman, when deep down I knew I was gay and could never love her like that."

He stared blankly out of the window, his face drawn and tired. When he talked again, his voice was raw. "I knew for a long time I had to end things with her and I was telling myself I was trying to find the right moment to tell her we were over. Now I think I was just afraid of coming out, really."

"And you were obviously right in being afraid," Riley observed. "It doesn't make it right though. What she did to you, keeping you from your child."

"No, and she wasn't planning on telling me either. It was Esme's sister, Rosalie, who called to tell me."

"So you do have an ally in their family."

Carlisle laughed. "Oh, no, she's my worst enemy, I think. She just called me to do as much damage to me as possible. I'm sure of it."

"So, Esme herself hasn't told you she's pregnant?"

"No, it's only that one drunken call from Rose months ago. Not one of them picks up the phone when I call."

"That's too bad."

"Yeah, I know. It's a mess."

.

Carlisle had another restless night, getting up when everything was still quiet outside. He was pulling his t-shirt over his head, yawning widely, as he entered the living room and saw Riley still sleeping on his back. Carlisle tied the knot in his sweatpants, as he saw a slow movement under the blanket. A low moan escaped Riley's mouth, and Carlisle's breath got struck in his throat as he realized what Riley was doing in his sleep.

Hurriedly turning to escape before Riley could notice him, he almost fell over his shoes in the hallway. Closing the bathroom door behind him, he leaned against it for a second to find his breath. Walking over to the mirror, he stared at himself, his hands resting at the sink. His blue eyes were bloodshot with purple bags underneath—he wasn't much of a catch lately. How could he ever get himself a partner, or even a fuck? Who would ever want him, damaged as he was?

He brushed his teeth furiously and went to the kitchen to look for eggs to cook.

As he sat and sipped his morning coffee, his plate of now cold eggs still in front of him, Riley appeared in the doorway. Holding onto the top frame with his fingers, his body stretched, revealing the hair on the bottom of his thin stomach.

Carlisle swallowed and hurriedly pointed to the stove. "If you want to eat cold eggs, help yourself."

Riley laughed, his fingers scratching his chest, as he found himself a plate and fork. "You know, I've eaten some crappy food lately, C. This is a breakfast for kings for me." He grinned widely as he sat himself down, making Carlisle wonder if he'd noticed him staring at him earlier.

"More breakfast for queens, wouldn't you say?" Carlisle teased.

"Hey!" Riley pretended to be angry. "I'm not a girl!"

Carlisle gazed softly at him. "No, you're a boy."

"No, I'm a man—all man," Riley answered, his mouth full of eggs. "Want me to prove it?"

Carlisle felt his face grow hot. "Nah, I believe you. Let's just say, you're Riley."

Riley winked at him. "That I am. Pleased to meet you." He chuckled and some egg pieces fell from his mouth.

Carlisle laughed. "How old are you anyway? When do people go from being a boy to be a man? I'm not sure I believe that man part, you claim, with the way you eat and all." He gestured to Riley's t-shirt with egg crumbs on it.

Riley looked thoughtfully at him. "I guess I became a man this autumn. You know, it just needed to happen."

Carlisle felt sorry for him, but didn't push further. He only hmm-ed and started eating his own cold eggs.

"You're in a good mood today," he said to the boy. "Slept well?"

Riley winked at him. "Sleeping was very satisfying, thank you."

They ate in silence for a few minutes. When Carlisle finished, he was surprised to see his own plate empty, without having to consciously make sure he ate every bite.

"Is there anything you want to do today? Anything I could help you with?" he asked Riley, while they did the dishes. "You know, to help with your situation?"

"Yeah, I got you," Riley said, standing on his toes to put away their plates in the cupboard. "Well, I've been trying to get a job for some time now, you know to get money to eat and rent a place?"

"Why haven't you?"

"It's not easy getting a job looking like I did the other night, is it?" Riley answered him, irritated. "Besides, I don't have an address and I've lost all my papers."

"What happened to them?" Carlisle dared ask, after Riley so freely told him something about himself.

"They got nicked the first night. I used my bag as a pillow, but when I woke after a short nap, it was empty."

They both sat down at the table again. Riley looked like he was about to cry.

"How long has it been since that night?" Carlisle asked low.

Riley dried his nose with the back of his hand, shrugging. "About four weeks, I guess. I haven't lived out there for long."

"Well, I think one month is a month too long," Carlisle said firmly. "You can stay here for a while. Get yourself a job and copies of your papers."

Riley stared at him with a wary look in his eyes. "And what do you get out of this?"

Carlisle looked back at him, determined to get Riley to understand his sincerity. "I get a distraction."

.

In the afternoon, Riley made a few phone calls as Carlisle kept himself busy in his bedroom. Then Carlisle told Riley he needed to make a personal phone call so he went for a short walk. He was back after an hour, short of breath, and carrying bags smelling like takeaway.

Placing the bags on the kitchen table, he went out into the hallway again to take off his shoes and scarf. Riley came into the corridor from the living room. "Hey," Carlisle said. "I've found you a job interview tomorrow morning if you want it."

"You have?" Riley stared surprised at him.

"Yeah, I know a lot of people at the hospital and we always need porters. You know, pushing beds around the hospital?"

"Yes, I know what those are," Riley said slowly. "It sounds great. Thank you!"

Carlisle smiled at him. "You're welcome. But you haven't got the job yet. You still need to go to the interview."

Riley smiled back at him. "Now that I have these clothes and a clean face, I have a good chance, I think."

"I think so, too," Carlisle said.

Riley found them plates and forks. "Why don't you have any books?" he asked, as he placed glasses on the table.

"Huh?"

"I mean, what kind of doctor doesn't read books? Shouldn't you at least have some text books here or something?"

Carlisle felt a pang in his stomach. Having Riley here was a distraction, like he'd said, but it also meant Carlisle was forced to talk about himself, or more specifically—his past. He swallowed down the stress that was swelling up and concentrated on breathing.

"I've sold them," he finally said.

"You've sold them?" Riley mimicked him, disbelieving.

"Yeah, all of them. Every book I had. And everything else I didn't need."

"Why?"

"Because I thought that if I had a child, I wanted to do anything I could for it. Right then, the only thing I could do was save money for a college fund or something. So, I sold everything I didn't strictly need and I've been saving every spare cent of my salary ever since."

They sat quietly for a while, Riley watching Carlisle as he stared far out of the window.

"That's so sad," Riley finally whispered.

Carlisle swallowed hard and looked at him. "Yeah, I know. I'm a sad person. I can't even find out if there's a reason to save anything. I'm so pathetic!" he cried out, pressing his fists to his eyes.

"Hey, you're not pathetic!" Riley tried to soothe him.

"Yes, I am. I'm a sad, miserable version of a human being," Carlisle mumbled into his hands.

"I actually think you've done the very best you can in your situation," Riley said. "If Esme's really pregnant with your child, there isn't much you can do if she doesn't want anything to do with you, but as soon as the baby's born, you have rights, you know?"

"Yeah, I know," Carlisle mumbled, his shoulders slumping. He got up to find a spoon to serve them from the plastic containers.

They ate in silence, with only forks scraping plates and chewing to be heard for a long time.

Eventually, Riley broke the silence. "I used to have a college fund," he said. Carlisle looked up at him from his plate, his food cold and shoved around, only half eaten.

"What happened to it?" Carlisle asked, taking a sip of his water.

Riley leaned back in his chair, stretching and combing his fingers through his hair. "They closed it," he said.

He slumped down again, placing his elbows on the table. "I started college a few months ago. I wanted to study literature, you know, maybe become a teacher, or something. My parents had saved the money for me from when I was a baby."

His finger followed the wooden pattern in the table. "I thought they would support me after I had the courage to come out to them, or at least eventually be okay with it—but the weekend I told them, they kicked me out and closed the fund, so I had nothing to go back to. I lived with a friend on his couch for a while, but he found a girlfriend and, I don't know, she became jealous or something. They had a huge fight, ending with her moving in and me moving out. I told him I had somewhere else to stay, but, you know—"

"Fuck, that's bad," Carlisle exclaimed, staring at Riley, shocked over what he'd said and his unusually long speech. "I'm so sorry."

Riley shrugged. "Yeah, thanks. They're idiots, my parents. Who does that to their kid anyway?"

Carlisle shook his head. "I remember this article I read once," he said. "Around forty percent of homeless youths are gay or lesbian, and the main reason they're on the streets is family rejection. So, sadly you're not the only one."

.

Later, Carlisle showered, folded the towel around his hips and rushed to his bedroom to find some clean clothes. About to close his bedroom door, he looked into the corridor and caught Riley staring at him from where he was sitting at the kitchen table. His eyes looked dark and his mouth a little slack.

Carlisle closed his door completely, his heart thumping hard in his chest. Leaning his back against it for a second, he tried to remember what was the right thing to do—he couldn't go there, not now.

Shaking his head, he let the towel fall to the floor, feeling the cold air on him and he started getting dressed for the night.

He stepped into the corridor again, forcing a smile on his face. Riley stood there, hovering right by his door and looking up as Carlisle closed it.

"Hey," Riley whispered as he took a step towards Carlisle. Gazing up at him and looking determined, Riley moved the last inch to get into Carlisle's personal space.

"I can't," Carlisle breathed. He stepped backwards, feeling his heart pounding in his chest again, and thumped into the wall behind him. "Please!"

Riley stared up at him, eyebrows drawn together. "Why not?"

"I'm..." Carlisle coughed. "I'm not that kind of person. I told you when I met you. I didn't ask you here to take advantage of you, and I'm not going to start doing it now."

"You're not! I want it!"

"No, Riley, we need to get you up on your feet. We both need to get our heads above water."

"I know that! That doesn't mean we can't have sex!"

Carlisle banged his head against the wall, groaning. "You're not making this easy for me, Riley."

"Sorry, I'll back off, if that's what you really want," Riley said, looking disappointed. "Please, just know I'm here and remember I want you."

"Okay," Carlisle whispered, pushing up his glasses that had slipped down his nose. "It's not that I don't want you, too."

"No, I understand what you're saying," Riley said, his mouth a thin line.

Carlisle went to the kitchen. "Here, let's make some tea, talk a little and calm ourselves down before bed."

.

In the middle of the night, Carlisle woke up as usual from his restless sleep. His muscles were already wired tightly. He jumped, making a startled noise when he saw a dark shadow beside his bed.

"Shhh, it's only me," Riley whispered into the dark.

"Riley?" Carlisle mumbled.

"Yeah," Riley breathed. Carlisle felt his bed dip and a pair of ice cold feet against his own warm ones.

"What are you doing?" he tried to ask, his voice hoarse from sleep.

Riley crawled all the way under the warm covers, lying on his side to face Carlisle. Their feet and knees pressed against each other in the narrow bed. Carlisle tried to push himself back, but ended up pressed against the wall.

"You were shouting and crying," Riley whispered. "I wanted to check if you were all right. Did you have a bad dream?"

Carlisle couldn't remember dreaming. Having Riley this close and in his bed was distracting him from remembering anything at all. He forced his arm over the covers against his side to prevent him from reaching out for the boy. Riley followed his movement and then his fingertips touched Carlisle's, sliding slowly up his arm, producing goosebumps over his arm up to his neck.

He stared at Riley's face, breathing through his nose, and concentrated on keeping still. Being so close to him, Carlisle was able to see how pretty he really was, even though his cheeks were still a little hollow. His hair looked soft and Carlisle's hand found its way into it, confirming his suspicion.

Carlisle massaged Riley's scalp lightly with his fingers, making the boy close his eyes and moan. The sound escaping the boy's mouth fitted perfectly into a place inside Carlisle that had been locked away for a long time.

Riley's hand slid from Carlisle's neck, tentatively down his chest and over his nipple, making it tighten and send sparks down south of his body. This woke Carlisle up from his stupor, making him remember again he was supposed to keep his distance.

He stopped Riley's hand against his chest. "No, Riley, please. We're not supposed to do anything like that, remember?"

Riley groaned. "But it's been such a long time for me, and I want you! Doesn't that make a difference?"

Carlisle felt his will to stay firm slip a little. "It's been a very long time for me, too," he whispered.

Riley inched closer, his face right in front of Carlisle's. "Yeah," Riley breathed against his face, his hand back at Carlisle's chest. "You want to know the reason I stopped your car that day in the parking garage?"

Carlisle felt his heart beat against Riley's hand. He wanted to touch him all over, kiss him and do everything Riley would let him do to him. He didn't know if he'd be able to say no one more time. "Mhm," he mumbled, confirming that he wanted to know.

"It wasn't the promises of a warm shower, a comfortable couch or a full stomach that made me change my mind," he said, stopping for a moment to gaze into Carlisle's eyes.

"What was it, then?" Carlisle wondered.

Riley leaned in, the few inches separating them becoming none as he slowly brushed his soft, full lips against Carlisle's. "It was you. I wanted you."

Riley pressed his lips full on to Carlisle's and their tongues met, sliding hot against each other, slow at first, but quickly escalating. Carlisle felt his resolve slip away like sand in an hourglass.

"Fuck, Riley," he moaned into the boy's mouth, feeling his previous resolve go when Riley's hand slid down from his chest to his tented briefs, and brushing lightly over the tip of his cock.

"Oh shit, Carlisle, you're so hard!" Riley groaned. "Please, can I touch you? I want to feel you so bad. I want... Oh, please, touch me, too."

He grabbed Carlisle's hand, shoving it inside of his sweatpants where he felt the boy's hard cock warm and pulsing like his own. There was no way Carlisle could say no to Riley anymore, with their hands on each other's cocks and Riley's hot tongue inside his mouth.

Riley seemed to be just as desperate as Carlisle felt. The way the boy moved his hand, too little pressure and way too fast, made him able to keep his orgasm at bay for Riley to erupt in his hand first.

Sometimes two are better than one.

.

One month later, Carlisle pulled his beanie over his short, still wet hair and closed his thick coat tighter around himself, as he stepped outside of the hospital. Right at the start of his shift, he had asked his boss for three days off for Christmas. His boss had looked shocked at him when he'd made the request. Carlisle shrugged his shoulders. "I have a life outside of work, all right?"

His boss had smiled at him then, wishing him happy holidays.

Right outside of the hospital door, several people sat smoking as usual. Carlisle nodded at them, stopping beside one older man in a wheelchair.

"Hi, Doc," the man said, his voice raspy from coughing all day. His face was thin and the fingers holding his cigarette, dark yellow.

"Hey," Carlisle said, putting his arm around the shoulders of the boy standing next to the old man. "Your shift went all right?" he asked him, and got a bright smile in return.

"Yes, just like always," Riley replied, shaking the old man's hand. "Take care now, and make sure to give your missis my best!"

"I sure will!" the old man said, smiling at him. "You boys have a good time now." Carlisle steered Riley to the parking garage. "You take good care of that one, Doc!" the old man yelled after them, making Carlisle laugh and wave in return.

They sat in the car for a few minutes as it warmed up a bit. Riley fiddled with the radio, eventually finding a song he liked.

"Hey," he said softly.

Carlisle sat staring out at the streetlights. Riley took his hand from the steering wheel and placed it in his lap. Carlisle's spell was easily broken, when he felt his lover's warm hand around his own.

"I was just thinking," he said.

"I noticed."

"I'll probably never become a father now," Carlisle said, staring at his hand in Riley's.

"Oh," Riley breathed, not expecting this. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not sure I'd want to either. It's just... I don't know."

"I understand," Riley whispered. "You'd gotten used to the idea of having a kid after Rosalie lied to you."

Carlisle looked at him, to the young face right in front of him. His boyfriend meant so much to him. "Come here," he whispered, too, and brushed his lips against Riley's soft ones.

"Let's go home and make some dinner," Riley mumbled against his lips. "I'm starving!"

Carlisle laughed as he drove the car out onto the road. "No, you're not! Not anymore," he said.

During their shift, the ice on the road had mostly melted away.

Maybe this was going to be one of those winters when the freezing cold quickly and unwarily slid into an early spring, with all its possibilities, and a promise of a warm summer to come.

.

The End

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed my story and it's unusual pairing. **

**This story means a lot to me, and as I read it over again now before I post it, I get reminded of this summer when I wrote it. It was not a good time for me with having to tell my father he would die really soon several times before it finally sunk in with him, and seeing him crying and telling my kids to work hard at school and be responsible as adults. Writing this story and having this escape was a help for me to get through it.  
**

**I wish you a Healthy New Year! :)  
**

**Hugs, Dalina  
**


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